


I've Got A Feeling I'm Falling

by Honey_Lavender



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Ambiguous Relationships, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Open Relationships, Slow Burn, Speakeasies, What I'm Trying To Say Is That Everyone Here Is A Certified Human Disaster™
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-05-23 14:20:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14935934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Lavender/pseuds/Honey_Lavender
Summary: Chicago, 1929America's experiment with banning the sale of alcohol has largely failed. However, the laws are still in effect, meaning that most people make use of illegal speakeasies to get their fix. Owners of such establishments and illegal liquor distributors are living like kings, but tensions between rival gangs are higher than ever, and threatening to break out into all-out war.Enter Eva Mohn, an aspiring singer from a small town who gets more than she bargained for when she takes a gig at an underground speakeasy and meets Christoffer Schistad- bootlegger, skirt chaser, and known associate of infamous crime boss William Magnusson.





	1. Chapter 1

Jonas hated this dress. 

He had told her so the moment they’d laid eyes on it in the shop window. It was nice to _look at_ , he had said, but not something that a nice girl would _wear_. Its price was too high, its color too lurid, its neckline too low for any respectable woman, especially one who was already spoken for.

At the time Eva and Isak had offered up matching, noncommittal hums and continued on their way home, the matter apparently settled. But for whatever reason, in the days that followed Eva found her thoughts returning persistently to that dress. There was just something about it that she found appealing, that made it stick in her mind.

She thought about it so often, in fact, that by the time she’d built up the nerve to go back and buy it it seemed inevitable. This dress must have been made for her, and she had to have it.

Since then it had languished in the wardrobe behind her more sensible everyday outfits, with no one to admire its red silk or intricate beading but Eva, who would take it out In private moments and imagine that she had an occasion to wear it to.

The occasion, it seemed, had finally arrived.

As she set out and breathed in the crisp fall air, the sensation of fringe brushing against her legs was a constant reminder of her own rebelliousness, spurring her on and keeping her from turning back. The sun had gone down more than an hour ago, but the city showed no signs of settling down. Electric lights bathed the bustling crowds in a stark, yellowish tint, and as Eva joined them she remembered why she loved Chicago so much. Everyone in her hometown had probably gone to sleep by now, getting ready to wake up tomorrow and see the same people and do the same things they did every day for the rest of their lives. She liked not knowing what was going to happen to her, the adventure of it, even when it also terrified her.

Eva wouldn’t have gotten the chance she was getting tonight if she’d stayed in Wisconsin, that was for damn sure, because no one in Wisconsin could have gotten her a job at the Riot Club. That in itself was a minor miracle. 

She checked the slip of paper where the woman who’d introduced herself as Mari had scribbled a date, address, and what Eva could only imagine was a password, and confirmed that this was definitely the place. It looked by all accounts like an average and very much closed tailor shop. For an awful moment she considered the possibility that this was some kind of joke at her expense, but then she heard faint laughter coming from the alley next to the building.

Eva crept around the corner and watched as a group of men and women funneled into a side door that shut firmly behind them, and the thrill of anxious anticipation she’d been feeling returned in full force. She smoothed her dress one last time, took a deep breath, and headed for the door.

A panel at her eye level slid open to reveal the upper half of a man’s face. “Password?” he asked.

“Penetrate,” she whispered, unable to stop the blush that flared in her cheeks when he chuckled and pulled the door open. A narrow set of stairs started abruptly in front of her, and all she could do was follow them down.

Music and raucous laughter floated up to her, louder and louder the further she went, til the room seemed to open up and swallow her whole.

It was larger than she would have expected, taking up what must have been the basements of the tailor’s as well as the shops on either side of it. Nevertheless, it was packed with people sitting at tables, dancing in front of the band, and clamoring to get to the bar against the back wall. A neon sign that read “RIOT” in yellow hung above it, buzzing and glowing in the cigarette smoke.

Eva stared dumbly until a coat-checker cleared their throat at her, and she shed her outer layers for them to take.

“Oh good, you're here!” Mari emerged from the crowd and grinned cheerily at her. “Want a little liquid courage before you go up? First one’s on the house.”

“Absolutely.”

Mari steered her toward the bar, where a pretty brunette in pink satin was waiting for them and expertly holding three drinks at once. After they’d relieved her of their glasses, she extended her free hand to Eva.

“I’m Iben.”

Eva took it and tried not to think about how sweaty her palms were. “Eva.”

“I used to do your job but now I help Mari run the place.” Iben studied her for a moment, then cast a sidelong glance at Mari. She seemed to be trying not to laugh. “Are you nervous, Eva?”

“Yes,” she said. Of course she was nervous. The last time she’d done something this crazy was when she’d hopped on the bus out of town with Jonas and Isak, and that certainly hadn’t turned out the way she thought it would.

“Well then, let me give you some free advice.” Iben leaned in, and Eva obliged, turning her ear in her direction to better hear over the band. With a conspiratory tone she continued, “It’s an uphill battle to get any man in this business to take you seriously, so you have to make up for it by being confident enough for the both of you. I know Mari has good taste, and she wouldn’t have asked you to come here if she didn’t think people would want to hear you, so there’s really nothing to worry about. Okay?”

Eva straightened her shoulders and nodded. “Okay.”

They toasted and knocked back a glass of dark liquid that tasted like rubbing alcohol mixed with gasoline. She spluttered but managed not to spit it out, and heard a chuckle from off to one side.

“Who’s your friend, Iben?” A dark-haired man sidled up next to them and blew on Mari’s feathered headband, grinning when she rolled her eyes at him.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he went on, focusing solely on Eva now. “I’m sure I’d remember if we had.”

He was well-dressed and handsome, Eva observed, but much too aware of it. He practically radiated self-assuredness, and made no attempt at subtlety when he looked her up and down, like it was a forgone conclusion that she would enjoy the attention from him. It annoyed her that she did, a little bit.

Iben groaned and shook her head. “No no no, she doesn’t have time for you, she’s going on as soon as this song’s over.”

“I am?”

“You are?” His eyes lit up with recognition. “So _you’re_ the new singer.”

Eva looked at Iben, who sighed heavily. “Eva, this is Christoffer Schistad, our primary distributor and an incorrigible floozy. I highly recommend you don't listen to a word he says.”

“ _Floozy?_ ” His eyebrows jumped up toward his hairline. “If I recall correctly, it was you who left me, doll.”

“Do you also recall cheating on me with half a dozen people?” she snorted as she leaned against Mari, who wrapped a white-gloved arm around her shoulders. “You're lucky that coffin varnish you call gin is cheaper than the North Side swill or we wouldn't even let you in the door.”

He winced exaggeratedly. “You’re breaking my heart. How can you embarrass me like this in front our new acquaintance?”

“Well, you refuse to wear that warning sign we made around your neck so this is really our only option, short of passing out pamphlets.”

His laugh carried over the music as it began to wind down, and he returned his attention to Eva. “I think that’s your cue. Good luck up there, kid.”

He winked at her, and she ignored the butterflies fluttering in her stomach to reply, “I don’t need luck,” and winked back.

And with that she made her way toward the stage, currently occupied by a three-man band. The liquor barely had time to start churning in her stomach before she was in front of the mic, and she clutched at it in hopes that no one would see how her hands were shaking. 

But then the band started up behind her, and she was in her element. It was only when she was singing that she really felt completely herself, not tied down by other people's expectations or opinions of her. She was simply existing, right in that moment, just her and the music.

She lost herself in it for a while, enjoying the feeling, then came back to herself enough to look out over the crowd, make eye contact with a stranger long enough to make them feel special, then jump to the next. The trick was that it had to be long enough to feel real, but not so long that they felt bold enough to approach her when she stepped offstage. 

But then Eva locked eyes with someone, and suddenly it wasn't just her and the music anymore.

They were startlingly blue, and large enough that they almost made her look like a porcelain doll. She tilted her head as she flashed a smile at Eva, her blonde bob barely brushing her shoulder. She was beautiful, and oddly familiar.

Eventually Eva came to her senses and looked away. By the time she’d finished her set to scattered applause the girl had disappeared, so she returned to the bar alone and ordered a new drink. The warmth of it ran through her, mixing with the excitement of what she’d just done and she let pride swell in her chest like a balloon.

She’d just finished her first solo gig. And it hadn’t been a disaster! She felt reckless and exhilarated, so she finished the rest of her drink in one gulp, then laughed when it burned in her throat.

“Guess you were right about not needing luck.”

Eva turned, and there was Christoffer again, this time alone. It was probably empty flattery, but she couldn’t help the pleased flush that it brought to her face. 

“Thank you Mr. Schistad.”

He pulled a face and laughed. “ _Please_ call me Chris,” then motioned to the bartender, who topped up her glass and gave him one of the same.

“Oh. Okay, Chris. Where did Mari and Iben go?” she asked, trying not to sound too skittish. Now that her adrenaline-high had faded slightly, guilt was starting to prickle at the back of her mind. She knew she should leave soon, but she didn’t want to run off without at least saying goodbye.

If Chris picked up on her apprehension he made no mention of it, only clinked his glass against hers and took a healthy gulp. “They had some business to take care of upstairs. But you should meet a friend of mine. He runs a few places like this and I think he might like to get you singing there too.”

“Really?” 

“Sure! Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll bring him over.” 

He pointed to what looked like a reserved table and Eva went, still feeling a bit wary. The last thing she wanted was to be duped by some smooth-talking bootlegger, but she reasoned with herself that if he wanted to try anything untoward with her he probably wouldn't do it out in the open. She made a quick promise to herself that no matter what they said, if they asked her to go somewhere more private she would run the other way.

“Eva?”

The blonde girl from the crowd stood in front of her, shimmering like a mirage in a silver sequined dress.

“You work at the diner near the park, right?” she asked. “With the little star nametags?”

“Yes...Oh! You come in for lunch sometimes.” Eva knew she’d looked familiar. She was still quite pretty without it, but the girl’s red lips and dress were so striking that they’d made it hard to place her in her usual, more modest attire.

“I’m Noora. Do you mind if I sit?” She took a place next to Eva and regarded her with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if not for the warmth in her eyes. “You were great up there. How long have you been at it?”

“Tonight was my first time actually.”

“Wow! I’d never have guessed, you’re a natural! You sounded just like Marion Harris.”

“Oh, stop, she’s one of my favorite singers, I’m not even close to her.” Eva took a sip to hide her embarrassment and Noora smiled.

“Mine too. I saw her perform in New York last summer.”

Eva wanted to ask her what it was like, but she saw Chris approaching with a dour-looking man in a dark, perfectly tailored suit. Noora followed Eva’s gaze and looked over her shoulder as the two came within earshot.

“-don’t have time to entertain every girl you’re sleeping with, Chris. That would be a full-time job on its own.”

Chris groaned. “You've been running around all night. Just take a second to sit, relax, and have a drink.” Then he muttered under his breath, “God knows you need one.”

The man sighed heavily and stepped up to the table. “Fine. Let’s get this over with. Which one of you is the singer?”

Eva stood up and tried to remember Iben’s advice. _Confidence._

“I’m Eva,” she said. “It’s nice to meet-”

“Listen, I don’t know what Chris told you, but on the list of things I need to worry about, the music in my clubs doesn’t even make the top ten. They could play records into a microphone for all I care.”

Eva could feel her face burning. Chris pinched the bridge of his nose behind him and opened his mouth to say something, but he’d already turned to Noora and asked boredly, “And you are?”

“Not interested in sleeping with either of you, that’s for sure.” Noora snapped. “Just who the hell do you think _you_ are?”

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t answer, which only seemed to egg her on.

“Ah, Noora-” Eva began, but there was no stopping her.

“You can’t talk to people that way. I don’t know who raised you but I assume they weren’t wolves. For God’s sake, behave like a human being.”

The man seemed to cycle through quite a few emotions in the space of a second. Shock, outrage, amusement, and others that Eva couldn’t possibly begin to define flitted behind his eyes until they settled on a small smile. He looked at Chris, who was busy smothering a laugh behind his hand, before turning back to the girls.

“You’re absolutely right. Allow me to apologize. What are you two drinking?”

“Whiskey,” Eva replied.

“I don’t drink,” Noora said stiffly.

“At all?” His mouth quirked and she rolled her eyes.

“Water then.”

“Water it is, for…?” 

She seemed content to let him stand there all night rather than give him an answer, but after Eva nudged her ribs she muttered, “Noora.”

“ _Noora_.” He grinned like he’d won something and disappeared into the crowd.

Chris offered them both a cigarette, which Eva took but Noora refused. He laughed as he lit one between his teeth. In between drags he asked, “If you don’t drink and you don’t smoke, what exactly did you come here for?”

“The music.” She smiled enigmatically at Eva, like it was an inside joke of theirs, and Eva found herself smiling back.

“Sorry about William,” Chris went on. “He’s had a particularly bad day, business-wise.” He sighed and flicked ash onto the floor. “I probably should’ve held off on introducing you, but-”

Suddenly a burly man appeared at Chris’s elbow, whispered in his ear, and hurried off toward a dark corner of the room.

Chris didn't seem to share in the man's sense of urgency, and sighed languidly as he stubbed out his cigarette.

“I'm sorry ladies, can you excuse me for a few minutes? I have to deal with some...unexpected guests. I'll be right back.”

The moment his back was turned Noora leaned toward Eva to say,

“I have a bad feeling about those two. I think-”

All of the lights but the neon RIOT sign went out. Screams and gasps rang through the crowd, and Eva's stomach clenched with panic as one voice roared over the others.

“RAID!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I told myself I wouldn't post this until it was completely finished but it's only about half-done. I'll try not to leave too long of a break between updates but I want to keep a manageable pace so part 2 will be up next week :) Hope you enjoyed so far, let me know what you think!
> 
> Oh, and I'm on tumblr as kalique-abrasaxx if you want to come yell about Chriseva or SKAM or the remakes to me, I'm always happy to geek out about them there too


	2. Chapter 2

The room descended into chaos.

Eva clutched Noora's hand as they pushed through a sea of people in the darkness.

“Chris?!” she tried to shout over the noise. “Chris!”

“This way!” Someone took her arm and led her away from the bottlenecked entrance. The voice was unfamiliar, but Eva allowed herself to be pulled through a door and up a set of stairs until they made it out onto the street on the opposite side of the building that she’d come in. In the streetlights she could see the hand on her arm belonged to a brown-haired girl in an outrageously colorful fringe dress.

“Oh,” she said, surprised. “Do I know you?”

“What? No, you grabbed me!”

“You were calling my name, I thought-”

“Chris, we have to go!” A pink-cheeked blonde pulled insistently on her other hand, edging further down the alley.

“Oh, you're also Chris?”

“Uh, girls, I think-” Noora looked at the blonde.

“Vilde,” she supplied.

“Vilde’s right. Maybe we can continue this conversation on the move?”

Chris nodded. “Right! Follow me.”

They crept down the alley until they heard heavy footsteps and voices approaching, then threw caution to the wind and sprinted through the winding side streets, making abrupt turns that made no sense to Eva but obviously meant something to Chris.

Suddenly Vilde stumbled, Eva tripped over her, and they both skidded across the pavement.

“Shit, my heel,” Vilde wailed, and it bounced off the walls of the alley. “I can’t _believe_ I let you drag me into this-”

“Shh!” Chris admonished her as she helped her up. Eva also got to her feet with Noora’s assistance, and they limped along for a few more blocks. She tried to avoid looking at her stockings; she knew a lost cause when she felt it.

At long last they came to a brick building with a heavy backdoor that Chris knocked on four times: two long, two short. Eva held her breath as they waited for what felt like an eternity. Eventually the door opened to reveal a woman with kohl-lined eyes and a hijab.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you coming in?” she hissed, and it jolted them all into action. They hustled inside and she latched it firmly before turning to face Chris, face tight and lips pursed.

“Am I going to be arrested for harboring fugitives tomorrow morning?”

“Nah, I don’t think anyone saw us.” Chris scuffed her shoe against the basement floor. “But there goes my favorite club.”

“It was getting too big, I told you it was bound to get busted.”

Vilde’s eyes widened owlishly. “You know about the Riot Club?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s in my neighborhood, of course I know about it. I’m surprised my brother wasn’t right behind you just now.”

“But...aren’t you…” Vilde trailed off and her gaze stuck on a large shape covered by a sheet in one corner, surrounded by stacks of newsprint. “Where are we?”

“Welcome to the home of the Muslim Sunrise. I’m Sana.” She held out her hand, and when Vilde hesitated Noora stepped forward to shake it.

“Noora.”

“Eva.” She waved feebly and crossed her arms in a belated attempt at modesty. 

“What’s the Muslim Sunrise?” Noora asked. She had already started moving toward the large shape to investigate.

“My family’s newspaper.” Sana lifted the sheet slightly to reveal part of a printing press.

“Is it only for muslims?” Vilde asked tentatively.

“Yes, it’s very secret. Actually, now that you’ve seen this place you can’t leave until you convert.”

Chris broke the following moment of tense silence when she burst out laughing, and Sana’s stony expression shifted to one of mischievous amusement.

“Such a kidder,” Chris snorted, slinging an arm around her. “I missed you and your father at the last fundraiser, it was a terrible bore without you. I don’t know how you all stand being sober at every function.”

“That’s exactly why I avoid most of them, but I’ll make an appearance for you at the next one.” She turned back to the rest of the girls. “Do you want some tea? We can go upstairs if you don’t wake my parents.”

And so the rest of the evening was spent with the five of them huddled in Sana’s lavish sitting room that could have fit fifty, whispering and giggling over hot tea. When they parted ways at two o’clock in the morning with thank-yous and promises to meet again, Eva was certain that for all of its ups and downs, this night had been one of the best in her life.

-

“Hello, welcome to the Star Luncheonette, what can I get you?” Eva recited to the man sitting in her booth and swallowed a yawn as he removed his hat. She’d been doubly blessed in that she’d managed to get home before Isak and Jonas last night and her shift was only six hours today, but she still couldn’t wait to crawl back into bed as soon as possible.

“I don’t think what I want is on the menu.”

Eva startled at the familiar voice and did a double-take.

It was Christoffer, eyes roving over her uniform and smirking with what appeared to be his trademark roguish charm. She recovered enough to reply, 

“That’s a good one. You’re early so I’ve only heard it twice today.”

He clutched his chest as if he’d been shot and laughed. “Damn. I wanted to make sure you made it out in one piece last night, but you don’t seem to need any looking after.”

“Well-” she spread her arms, a tacit offer for him to examine her further. “I’m fine physically, but I think I left my dignity somewhere between 48th and Wabash.” 

“That’s alright, I lost mine years ago and I get along just fine without it.” They shared a grin before Eva glanced over at her hawk-eyed supervisor, who was currently glaring disapprovingly at her.

“So, can I get you anything? A coffee?” she asked loudly.

“Sure. Black, with three sugars.”

She fixed his order, and when she set it on the table she leaned in to whisper, “Are Mari and Iben okay? What’ll they do now that the club is shut down?”

He took a sip and hummed approvingly at the taste. “This is good. Oh, what? Don’t worry about the club, it won’t stay closed. That was just some cops flexing for more money to look the other way. I guarantee we’ll be back in business before the week is out.” His expression turned sly. “And they’ll need entertainment. That is, if you’re still interested.”

Eva looked around at the diner, with its cramped seating and harried waitresses. She could smell the grease from the kitchen, hear the grumbling of impatient customers and the order bell ringing.

It wasn’t a bad job. She’d never had to run from the police while doing it, at least. 

But it wasn’t what she wanted, either.

She turned back to face him. “I am.”

“Great.” Chris drained the rest of his coffee all at once and she watched, slightly mesmerized by his sharp jawline and the movement of his throat. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to see a man about a dog.” He winked, threw a ten dollar bill on the table, and sauntered toward the door.

“Wait, your change-”

“Keep it,” he called carelessly over his shoulder, and then he was gone.

“Who was _that?_ ” asked Mary, a fellow waitress. She seemed nice enough, but she also gossiped quite a bit with the other girls, so Eva shrugged and tried not to smile as she pocketed the money.

“Trouble.”

-

When Eva stumbled through the apartment door later that afternoon, she noticed two extra pairs of shoes on the rack. It was only when she ventured further in that she found their owners, sitting and talking animatedly with Jonas and Isak.

“Hello,” she called out.

The men turned their heads and jumped up when they saw Eva. One, a dark-skinned man in a shirt and suspenders, held out his hand for her to shake.

“Hello. Name’s Mahdi, nice to meet you miss…?”

“Eva.” She took his hand and his smile lit up his face. Behind him the other man, a blond with wide blue eyes, waved. He reminded her of a farmboy from a fairytale picture book that she used to read, except that he had a mottled bruise blooming across his cheek. 

“I’m Magnus,” he said. “We all met last night at the club.”

“Is that also from last night?” Eva gestured toward his eye and he ducked his head.

“There was a uh...misunderstanding between us and some other guys,” Isak explained.

Jonas scoffed. “Bunch of thugs.”

“It was my fault,” Mahdi said sheepishly. “I thought I could come in and see the show but I wasn’t allowed-”

“You _were_ allowed in, they were just being assholes,” Magnus interjected.

“So of course Jonas gets involved, all hell breaks loose, this poor guy-” Isak continued, clapping a hand on Magnus’s shoulder- “tries to break it up and gets an elbow to the face for his trouble.”

Jonas shrugged and grinned at Eva. “What we’re trying to say is it was probably for the best you didn’t come.” He crossed the room to meet her and leaned in for a kiss. “How was your night? Hopefully not so eventful.”

Eva felt her insides seize up, and she turned her head so his lips met her cheek. “It was fine,” she said, and brushed by him to boil water for the kettle. 

He watched her, amused, then stage-whispered to the boys, “She’s sulking.”

“Why?” Magnus asked. 

“Because I told her not to take a job singing at some seedy speakeasy.”

“I am not sulking,” she said, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. She was afraid he’d see guilt where there should have been some other more wounded feeling.

“You sure?” Jonas wrapped an arm around her from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder. “We were gonna go up to the roof,” he said coaxingly. “Did you want to come?”

Even though their place was on the third floor, Jonas and Isak had all but claimed the top of the building as theirs for stargazing, smoking and people watching. Eva usually jumped at the chance to join them, but this time she shrugged, jostling him off of her. 

“No. But you go ahead.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. If you don’t want to come up and you’re ‘not sulking’, you won’t mind starting dinner right?”

In lieu of a direct answer she started rummaging around in the cupboards for pots and pans, and eventually heard them all shuffle outside

The second the door shut she climbed out the window and onto the fire escape. This felt more like Eva’s place than the roof did. She felt less exposed, sitting with her knees hugged to her chest against the landing than she did on the wide-open rooftop.

Wind whipped through her hair as she struggled to light her cigarette, and she’d wasted three matches before a hand reached out to block the wind.

It was Isak. He shivered but sat down next to her, so she passed the cigarette over to him in thanks. 

“Back so soon?”

“Just me. Forgot my hat.”

When she hummed he gave her a shrewd look and asked, “Are you sure you're okay?”

Eva sighed. Isak had always been sensitive, almost hyper-aware of people's feelings, which was normally something she liked about him. Unfortunately, it seemed that the price of having a perceptive friend was an inability to keep anything secret for more than a few hours.

“If I tell you will you promise not to say anything to anyone?”

“Not even Jonas?”

“ _Especially_ not Jonas.”

He frowned, apparently at war with himself, but curiosity won out in the end. It usually did with Isak.

“Okay, I promise.”

She checked behind her one more time, and when she was convinced that they were truly alone she whispered, “I sang last night at the Riot Club.”

“What?” he yelped, nearly dropping the cigarette out of his mouth. Eva took it back and he scrambled to light one for himself.

“I almost cancelled but I just couldn’t do it. Who knows if I ever would have gotten a shot like that again?”

“Wow.” He looked shocked but also a little impressed. “How'd it go?”

“It was so good, at least until the raid-”

“Raid?!”

“Relax, I didn't get caught!” She tipped her head back to look at the clouds, almost indistinguishable from the grey of the sky. She heard Isak say “Wow” again. They sat in companionable silence for a while, and she tried to let the nicotine settle her guilty conscience. Finally she turned back to him.

“Do you think I should tell Jonas?”

He raised his eyebrows and mumbled, “Are you crazy? He’ll have kittens, and then you'll both fight and sulk for days about something that's over and done with. You said yourself nothing happened, and it was just a one-time thing, right?”

She bit her lip. “They want me to come back.”

“And you want to do it again,” he guessed. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair.

“Look, I know Jonas wouldn't like it, but...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

“I guess.” Eva had thought it would make her feel better, telling someone about what she did, but it had left her feeling more conflicted than ever. She flicked the burned-out butt over the railing, and Isak helped her to her feet.

“Wish we could've seen it though,” he grinned. “I bet you were a knockout.”

She felt a rush of gratitude and pulled him in for a hug. “Thanks Isak.”

“Hey,” Jonas stuck his head through the window and grinned. “You trying to steal my girl Isak?”

“That's been my plan all along,” he deadpanned. “We’re madly in love and we’ll elope to Florida in the spring.”

“Well as long as you keep paying your part of the lease.”

Eva giggled and they climbed back inside. As they headed toward the kitchen she caught Jonas’s hand, and when he smiled at her she knew she wouldn’t tell him. There really was no need to upset him, and this could just be something she did for herself. Isak was right; what Jonas didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

She hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> History Corner!
> 
> *Chicago was home to a significant Muslim population in the 20s, and the Moslem Sunrise was an actual newspaper of the time.
> 
> *To "see a man about a dog" was slang used to cover up your reason for leaving suddenly, but during Prohibition it most often referred to going to buy/drink alcohol.
> 
> *Racially integrated nightclubs and speakeasies known as "Black and Tans" began to pop up in the 1920s, and were one of the only opportunities that black and white people had to socialize with each other. Even then, it seems that navigating that scene as a person of color was complicated, and not the complete freedom that white patrons thought of the experience.


	3. Chapter 3

Eva perched on the edge of the bed, watching the sun as it rose slowly over Jonas’s body. It was rare that she woke up before him, with his class schedule being what it was, so she wanted to take the time to really look at him. She realized, with a strange indescribable emotion, that this was probably the first time she’d looked at him this way since coming to the city.

He groaned when the light hit his eyes and scrunched up his nose, raised his hands to cover his face. She took one of them and lifted it so she could peek at him. “Good morning,” she sang, and he groaned again. “Will you be home today?”

“’m meeting the boys in the afternoon,” he mumbled. “Why?”

“I'm having some friends over in a little while.” Eva felt bad for springing it on him this way, but she’d been unsure of how to bring it up. A brunch date with the girls had been planned at least a week ago, and she’d meant to tell him, but somehow it kept getting put off until suddenly it was the morning of and she still hadn't mentioned it.

She also hadn’t really intended to mix her private life with her outside life, but when Vilde suggested that the girls all get together, it felt natural to offer up her apartment as the venue. The others still lived with their parents except for Noora, who explained apologetically that her place wasn't much bigger than a modest closet, so really Eva was their only hope for a gathering outside the club. And she really wanted to see them more often, and all at once. Vilde and Chris seemed to be a package deal on weekends, and she’d see Noora at the Luncheonette occasionally, but since she was working they hardly had time to sit and chat. It had been a month since she’d met Sana, but Chris reported that she was doing well and looking forward to seeing her again. Outside of those four, Eva hadn’t really met any other women that had made her feel so at ease since moving to the city.

“Friends? What friends?”

She bristled at the shock in his voice and sat up. “I'm capable of socializing with people that aren't you and Isak, you know.”

“Easy,” he laughed. “I didn't mean anything by it. You just never mentioned them before. How did you meet them?”

“At work,” she said, and it almost didn't feel like a lie. She had been working, after all.

“Okay.” He stretched and headed for the bathroom while Eva started making what she hoped was enough breakfast food for all of them.

When he sat down at the table he raised an eyebrow at the spread of eggs, pancakes, bacon, and toast in front of him. “How many people did you say were coming?”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, which turned out to be Noora. 

“Hi!” she trilled, a jar of strawberry jam in her hand and a smile on her face. “I wasn't sure what you were making but I figured-oh. Hello.” Her smile turned brittle when she saw Jonas, and they both surveyed each other with cool detachment.

“Jonas, this is Noora,” Eva said, trying to dispel the bizarre awkwardness that had taken over the room. “And Noora, you've heard me talk about Jonas.”

“All the time,” she said, in a way that seemed to imply she was unimpressed with the reality of him.

“Nice to meet you,” he said in an equally flat tone, then picked up the newspaper and disappeared behind it.

Sana was next to arrive, and she walked through the rooms like a realtor, nodding at the windows and furniture. “Not bad for a two-bedroom,” she said approvingly. “Are you paying a lot to rent?”

Jonas looked mildly disgruntled and opened his mouth, probably to tell her it wasn't her business, and Eva rushed to answer first.

“Uh, no? We split it three ways so-”

Vilde burst in the door, practically bubbling over with excitement.

“Do you have a record player? Chris just got back from New York and she can teach us the Lindy Hop,” she gushed.

Eva thought she heard a scoff from behind the newspaper.

Vilde turned toward him and smiled at the top of his head. “And you must be Eva’s husband?”

He lowered the paper far enough to answer, “Boyfriend.”

Her smile faltered. “But...you live together?”

“What's the Lindy Hop?” Eva asked.

Chris appeared behind Vilde brandishing a record and said over her shoulder, “It's a new dance they’re doing in Harlem. Lemme show you.”

Eva brought her over to where her record player rested on top of an end table in the sitting room. It was her most prized possession, and one of the only things she'd taken with her from home.

Once the record was settled in place, Chris grinned and brought the needle down.

A cacophony of brass instruments burst out at an impossibly fast tempo and they watched, awestruck, as Chris demonstrated. The fringe of her dress flew and her feet kicked into the air and Eva laughed breathlessly at the joyful, reckless energy of it. She could understand now why Vilde was so excited to learn.

Jonas, however, didn't seem enthused. He stood up from the table and told Eva, “I think I'll head out now.”

“Are you sure? You didn't even finish-”

“It's fine. I'll leave you girls to your Lindy.”

She watched him go with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Noora did as well, lips pursed, but thankfully said nothing. He was definitely annoyed, but there was nothing Eva could do about it now.

“-really better with a partner,” Chris panted over the music. “Sana?”

Sana immediately obliged, sliding in front of Chris and mirroring her like she'd done it a hundred times.

The rest of the girls’ jaws dropped, and Noora let out a whoop.

Once Sana was satisfied she had it down she and Chris paired off with the others, while the odd one out manned the record player.

Eva's worry about Jonas slid to the back of her mind and she lost herself in learning the steps, then watching Sana and Vilde execute a perfect routine while also attempting to avoid bouncing off of every piece of furniture in the room. The impromptu practice went on for over an hour before they collapsed, exhausted, around the forgotten breakfast dishes.

“It's a little cold but still good,” Chris confirmed through a mouthful of eggs, and they all dug in.

“Sana, I never knew you were such a good dancer,” Eva said. “You should come out with us sometime.”

“Maybe.” She reached delicately over the bacon to pick up Noora’s jam. “I just don't have the patience to be harassed by a bunch of two-bit gangsters in cheap suits.”

“They're not all bad,” Vilde said. Her expression turned dreamy. “William is a catch.”

Noora nearly choked on a bite of pancake. “William?” she spluttered. “William Magnusson, a catch?”

“Yes. Everyone thinks so,” Vilde replied, her voice going high and defensive.

“He's the worst of them all, Vilde, I mean it. He's rude and self-centered and a criminal, the absolute last man you’d want to end up with.” She said it so vehemently that it made Vilde flinch.

“But...he is handsome,” Chris said, a small smile tugging at her mouth, then mercifully changed the subject.

-

Vilde, Sana and Chris left shortly after they finished eating, citing various appointments that they were running late for, but Noora volunteered to stay and help clean up.

“So,” Eva began. Noora, elbow-deep in soapy water, turned her attention from the plate she was scrubbing to look at Eva.

“Would you care to tell me what's got you in such a lather today?”

“Oh, that's awful,” Noora laughed, and flicked some suds her way. “And nothing’s the matter, what makes you say that?”

“You just seemed rattled when we talked about...the club.”

“You mean William,” she said. “I’m not wrong, am I? You’ve seen how he acts, and that was only his first impression.”

“Have you met him since then?”

“No.” Her face had gone red, and she went back to scrubbing her plate.

“Noora!” Eva gasped. “You have!”

“Only a handful of times, and never on purpose!”

Eva pulled her away from the sink and sat her down at a kitchen chair. “Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell!” she insisted stubbornly.

“Noora,” Eva whined, grasping her still-dripping hands. “I thought we were friends. Don’t you trust me?”

Her expression softened. “Of course I do.”

“Then tell me!”

At the sight of Eva’s pout she relented. “Alright alright! If you must know, he started sending me notes on the nights I came to your shows.”

“What did they say?”

“Just ridiculous things to convince me to go on a date with him. And then he started sending flowers and jewellery, so I called him-”

“ _That_ changed your mind?”

“Of course not! He’s like a spoiled little boy trying to impress me with all of the things he can afford. There’s nothing attractive about that,” she huffed. “I called to tell him he was wasting his time.”

“And?”

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Well, he...I let him take me to dinner. But _only-_ ” her voice rose over Eva’s squeal- “because he promised he’d stop sending all that nonsense to me at the club. I hate being distracted when I’m trying to listen to you.”

“Sure.” Eva grinned. “How was it?”

“It was awkward, to be perfectly honest. Conversation with him is infuriating. We spent the whole evening going back and forth about everything. He thinks _Hemingway_ is the pinnacle of modern literature.”

“Hmm,” Eva nodded, trying to look sympathetic in the face of Noora’s frustration. She wasn’t much of a reader herself, so she found it was easiest to go along with her in situations like this.

“And when I’m talking he just smiles at me, like everything I say is funny to him. Like I’m some kind of joke.”

“Have you considered that maybe he just enjoys listening to you?”

“Maybe.” Noora looked thoughtfully at their hands, still intertwined and damp. “He wants to see me tomorrow night at the club,” she confessed. “But if I do go it will only be to see you.”

There was an earnestness in her voice that signalled what she said was true, but not the whole truth. Eva tried not to feel slighted at that. Tried not to wish that it was the whole truth. That would be selfish.

Eva watched Noora get up, pace, and return to the dishes. “You do like him, don’t you?” she asked, unable to help herself.

Noora didn’t look back when she answered. “I have no reason to. Plenty of reasons not to, in fact.”

“Which makes it all the more upsetting that you do?” she guessed.

“I meant what I said to Vilde. He’s not right for me. Even if he can be funny and kind and soft when he thinks no one is looking.”

“Don’t forget handsome,” Eva teased.

She sighed. “If you say so.”

“Apparently everyone does.”

They laughed, Eva put on one of her own records so it would float through the open kitchen door, and the dishes were washed and sorted before the hour was up.

-

Eva smiled at Borkis as she entered the club the next night. He was one of the bartenders that she always seemed to catch at a moment when he was laughing. She hoped his good mood would rub off on her, and was relieved to feel her spirits lift slightly when he waved back at her, a twinkle in his eye.

Chris was also at the bar, flirting with a pretty brunette until he caught sight of Eva and called out, “Hey, it’s my girl!”

“Chris, stop calling me your girl; someone might take you seriously.” It seemed that the brunette had for a moment, because she visibly relaxed as Eva took a seat near them. It was still early, so the place hadn’t hit capacity yet, but it was filling fast.

“Someday you’ll take me seriously and we’ll be very happy together, just you wait.”

They had settled into this back-and-forth over the last few weeks. If it were anyone else she probably wouldn’t let it go on, but Chris had never attempted to follow up on their banter with anything more physical than an arm around the shoulder or a pat on the back, so she never felt that it was getting out of hand. He also usually ended up going home with another woman before the night was over, which reassured her that whatever it was they were doing was innocent. 

“Well, we might not have to wait all that long,” she said, and her voice veered further into hysteria than she would have liked. She needed a drink.

Fortunately she was in the right place for it, and Borkis knew her usual, bless him, so it took less than a minute before it appeared in front of her.

Chris watched her toss it back with raised eyebrows and looked like he might say something, but seemed to think better of it when they saw Noora approaching from the back room. He turned back to his neglected brunette and slouched against the bar. 

Eva had become familiar with this particular pose of his. It was calculatingly casual, with one ear turned toward you that you didn’t know was listening until the conversation interested him, in which case he would jump in like he’d been interviewing you for the Tribune.

“Getting a head start?” Noora asked, eyeing Eva’s empty glass.

“Seems I’m not the only one.” Eva smirked and tapped the corner of Noora’s mouth where her lipstick had smudged. “How is William tonight?” 

Color rose high in her cheeks and she fished a compact out of her bag. “We just had dinner,” she said.

“And dessert?” She heard a laugh that turned quickly to a cough and smiled. “Chris, why don’t you pull up a chair so you can hear better?”

“I’m fine right where I am,” he replied over the top of the girl’s head, who was now practically sitting in his lap.

Eva giggled when Noora rolled her eyes, and the two moved closer to talk more quietly. “Dessert was...interrupted. Some man barged in wanting to talk to him so I saw myself out. What about you?”

“What about me?” She motioned for a refill and ignored Noora’s pointed sigh. 

“How are you and Jonas?”

“He’s still upset with me. As if he’s never brought people over unannounced before, and expected me to play hostess.” Her glass hit the bar with a heavy thunk. “It feels like all we ever do anymore is fight,” she said, so soft that even she could barely hear it. 

But it seemed Noora had caught the gist of it, because she laid a comforting hand over Eva’s. She opened her mouth to speak, but they were both distracted by a drawling voice that had gotten steadily louder until its owner was practically on top of them.

“I’m telling you, William, you’re missing out. If you’d just invest in a couple hundred shares you’d triple your money in a week.”

He was tall, and appeared to be using the height to his advantage by invading William’s space, forcing him to look up to maintain their eye contact. Still, William showed no signs of intimidation, and responded with all the enthusiasm of someone cancelling a magazine subscription.

“And I’m telling _you_ , from substantial experience, I know a racket when I see one.”

The man shrugged. “Have it your way then.” His gaze caught the girls’ as they gawked curiously at him, and he smiled with a warmth that didn't reach his eyes.

“So sorry for interrupting just now,” he said smoothly, holding out a hand to Noora. “I'm Nikolai. William's brother.”

Before Noora could respond William took hold of her upper arm and pulled her backward, out of Nikolai’s reach. He watched this with a sort of delighted amusement and asked,

“Where have you been hiding this one? She’s airtight.” His eyes ranged over Noora approvingly, and William’s grip on her tightened. She wriggled out of his grasp and shot him a look, but he ignored her, opting to stare at his brother instead. 

Nikolai smiled wider, which only made him more unsettling in Eva’s opinion. “If you get bored with booze you could consider my side of the family business, doll.”

“I don’t-” Noora started uncertainly, but William cut her off and moved bodily between them.

“Enough, Niko. She’s nobody, and she’s leaving now.”

He didn’t see how Noora’s face crumpled at the careless dismissal, but Eva did. She grabbed Noora’s wrist and pulled her gently to the restroom.

“I’m fine,” she said the minute the door closed. “Really,” she insisted at Eva’s disbelieving expression. “He’s just so- so rude!” She dabbed aggressively at where her makeup had smudged around her eyes and lips, but it didn’t do much to improve it. With a frustrated groan she whipped around and huffed through her nose.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t stand to be anywhere near him right now. Will you be alright if I leave?”

“Sure,” Eva agreed. They linked arms and strode out of the bathroom, breezing past the bar and up the stairs.

Before she opened the exit door, Noora tried for a carefree smile. “Men just aren’t worth the trouble. I think I’ll give them up entirely.”

“They’d be mourning in the streets,” Eva teased, only half-joking. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I could go with you.”

“No, don’t be silly. Go sing. I’ll see you tomorrow and you can tell me all about it over lunch.”

Eva watched her go and felt a pang at her heart. Part of her wanted to go right up to William and chew him out, but she didn’t know how much good that would do anyone. Clearly there was something off about this Niko person. She needed more information, and luckily, she knew just where to get it from.

By the time she’d returned to the bar, William, Niko, and Chris’s brunette had all disappeared, but Chris was still there, joking with Borkis when he wasn’t too busy tending bar. “Christoffer,” she sang. “Will you take my last drink with me before I go on?”

He grinned and batted his eyelashes at her. “Thought you’d never ask.”

They clinked glasses and emptied them in one go, and Eva finally felt the familiar buzz thrumming in her veins and flushing her face. She let it settle and gave Chris enough time to get a new drink before asking,

“So what was all that about?”

His smile turned slightly sour. “William and his brother don’t exactly get along.”

“So I gathered. Any particular reason for that?”

He watched the ice swirl around in his glass. “Not sure. We don’t cross paths much, fortunately. He handles a uh...different part of the operation.”

His tone hinted that he’d prefer they leave it at that, but Eva had never been good at avoiding perfectly good gossip. 

“Which part?” she pressed.

Chris hesitated, but she knew he would tell her. He hadn’t refused her anything up to this point. “Brothels, mostly. They say he wasn’t right after he came back from the war but I don’t know if he ever was to begin with.” He shuddered a little as he gulped his drink, but Eva knew that he could stomach stronger alcohol than what he had in his glass without flinching. Suddenly she remembered what he’d said to Noora and it set her skin crawling. No wonder William had gotten so bent out of shape.

“Anyway. I’d suggest keeping contact with him to a minimum, if you can help it. Alright?” He looked at her, and though his eyes had gone a bit unfocused, she could feel such genuine concern shining through the request that it set her heart fluttering around in her chest.

“Alright.”

“Attagirl.” He raised his glass to her. “Now go knock ‘em dead.”

Eva nodded, slid off the stool, and headed for the stage on unsteady feet. Her head swam a bit from all the new information, but that was fine. She would fill Noora in later, and they could work it out together. For now, all she had to worry about was her set.

-

As the weeks wore on, Eva slipped into a routine of sorts. She got up, went to work at the diner, went to movies with Isak or grocery shopping with Jonas, and they would all sit down to eat dinner together. It would all be perfectly wholesome if not for the one night a week that Eva would tell the boys she was working late or too tired to join them out, and she'd slip away to drink bathtub gin with the girls and sing at the Riot Club into the wee hours of the morning.

Guilt still gnawed at her when she thought about what Jonas would say if he found out, but those parts of her life felt so distinct that it almost felt like two different people were living them.

She should have known it couldn’t last.

It had been a great night. With Halloween just around the corner, Mari and Iben had pulled out all the stops to remake the club into a masquerade ball, and the crowd was full of mysterious strangers in costume, buzzing with excitement. For once all of the girls had been able to make it to the club, even Sana, and Eva sang her heart out to them. By the time she’d finished her voice was nearly gone, but she felt like she was walking on air as they crowded around her for a group hug.

“You were amazing!” Chris exclaimed, and Eva narrowly avoided getting poked in the eye by her butterfly costume’s antenna.

“Thanks! You all look incredible.” She reached out to feel the peacock feathers that covered Sana’s dress and beamed at them.

Vilde frowned and scrunched her nose, wrinkling her face paint. “You should have told me you didn’t have a costume, I would have made something for you!”

“That’s okay, Iben had an extra mask.” She took it off so she could admire it again. It was beautifully made, with intricate tendrils of gold and inlaid rubies that matched her dress almost perfectly. It was only as she fingered one of the thick black ribbons that Noora had used to tie the mask in place before her performance that Eva realized she was absent. “Where’s Noora?”

Sana shrugged. “Not sure, actually. She was just here a minute ago.”

Eva craned her neck to see over the crowd, but before she could catch a glimpse of blonde hair or red lips, she heard a voice that made her heart sink like a stone.

“Eva.”

She turned slowly, knowing exactly who she would see but delaying the inevitable.

“Jonas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> History Corner!
> 
> *The Lindy Hop was a wildly popular dance that originated in African American jazz clubs in the late 20s/early 30s. It's super energetic and fun to watch and still a staple for jazz and swing dancers today. (There are also a lot of great videos on youtube if you're interested in seeing it.)
> 
> *Niko is trying to convince William to invest in the stock market, which was seen as a nearly effortless, surefire way to financial success in the 20s, but by the end of the decade the market became progressively less stable.


	4. Chapter 4

He stood there, flanked by Isak, Mahdi and Magnus, thin-lipped with anger. She tried to think of something to say, but her mind had gone despairingly blank. So they stood silently, the tension between them unbearable but inescapable.

That is, until Chris showed up.

“There's my girl! You were great, as always.” He slung an arm around her and Jonas’s brows shot up.

“I’m _not_ your girl,” she hissed, but Chris was clearly buzzed and oblivious to the bite in her voice.

“Friends of yours?” he asked, smiling genially at the boys.

Magnus stepped forward first, eager to make nice, and introduced himself. Isak and Mahdi hesitantly said hello as well, and that left Jonas, ignoring Chris’s outstretched hand to stare at the one on Eva’s shoulder. It burned her like a brand.

“Jonas,” he said. “Eva’s boyfriend. Who are you?”

Surprise flickered across Chris’s face, but only for a moment. His free hand went into the pocket of his slacks while the other remained (infuriatingly) on Eva. “Chris. She’s something else up there, huh?”

“Yeah. She's something alright.” The look he gave her was enough to freeze her insides, so she looked anywhere but his face. The girls, who all seemed paralyzed while they watched the scene play out in front of them; Isak, who was transfixed by the buzzing neon sign just over Chris’s shoulder; the floor, comfortingly blank aside from a handful of stains and scuff marks. She decided to keep looking there.

“You want a drink? First round’s on me.”

Eva couldn't decide whether Chris thought he was helping or just amusing himself, but either way it was agonizing. She fought the urge to stomp on his foot or do something equally violent, anything to get him to stop talking.

“We were actually just leaving. Right, Eva?”

Jonas’s tone brooked no argument, so she dislodged herself from Chris and followed him up the stairs without a backward glance. The boys weren’t far behind, and they walked in deathly silence back to the apartment, only broken when Mahdi and Magnus said goodbye. As they retreated, Magnus mumbled,

“That’s the last time we let Isak pick the bar.”

Eva whipped her head around to look at him, and the guilt on his face was confirmation enough. The confusion and betrayal that rolled over her was sickening; somehow this was the worst she’d felt all evening.

But the night was far from over.

Isak fled to his room as soon as he got inside, leaving Eva and Jonas standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. Neither of them moved for a long time.

“How long?” he asked eventually.

“Two months, maybe?” Her throat was still worn out, and she struggled to make her voice more than a hoarse whisper.

“You've been lying to me for two months.” It wasn't really a question, so she didn't answer. It hung in the air between them, heavy and smothering.

He raked a hand through his hair, which had already begun to come loose from the slicked-back style he'd wrestled it into and revert to its natural curl. “I just don't understand why you'd want to fuck everything up like this. We made it here, we found a place, and jobs. We were doing fine!”

She wanted to speak, but whenever she tried to argue with Jonas it came out wrong, and he always found a way to pick her logic apart until she ended up agreeing with him or taking all the blame. She couldn't let herself do that this time. Unfortunately words failed her, and her silence only seemed to make him angrier. 

“I could barely even recognize you just now. Singing in some dive, cozying up with gangsters?” 

“I wasn't “cozying up” with-”

He threw up his hands and paced from the door to the window to the couch, fuming. “Please. That guy wanted one thing from you, and trust me, it's not to hear you sing. Have you even thought about how badly this could go? What it could do to your reputation?”

“Reputation?” The absurdity of it made her laugh, a rough, unpleasant sound. “Now you care about my reputation? What about when you asked me to run away with you? Did you care about my reputation then?”

“I didn't force you to come. You knew-"

“No, I didn't know!” she shouted, raw and wild enough to make him stop to look at her. “I didn't know you'd invite Isak along at the last minute! I didn't know everyone back home would shun me for “living in sin with two men” like some sort of…” She cut herself off, emotion thick in her throat. It was hard to breathe.

“It was supposed to just be you and me. We said we'd make music together, remember? You’d play guitar and I'd sing. On street corners if we had to.”

He shook his head. “We said a lot of things back then. We were kids. I thought you'd-...we'd outgrown all that.” His tone was softer now, almost placating, but it had the opposite effect on her.

“Right. Okay. If you're so grown up then why...” She bit her lip.

“Why what?”

“Why haven’t you asked me to marry you?”

“Eva.” The fight had drained out of him and was slowly turning into guilt. She could practically see the apology in his mouth, but she wasn't interested in making up anymore.

“I thought if I waited, and we'd saved up enough money, you would ask. But it's been eight months since we got here, and you never even brought it up once.” 

She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and looked back up at him. “Maybe you don't recognize me anymore because I've changed. Maybe I shouldn't have come to Chicago, but all I wanted then was to be with you. And now...now I have no idea what I want.” Her voice shook, but she straightened up as she said, “I think I need to figure it out. On my own.”

Jonas looked as if he’d been sucker-punched. He gaped at her, speechless, until she turned toward their room and started gathering her things.

“Where will you go?” he asked from the doorway.

Eva paused and stood up with her back to him. She hadn’t actually thought that far ahead, and now she felt foolish, like a child running away from home.

“I don’t know,” she replied quietly.

“It’s late. Why don't you at least stay tonight? I’ll bunk with Isak and you can work it out in the morning. Is that okay?”

Eventually she nodded. She still couldn’t look at him, but she heard him sigh and walk to the other end of the apartment. It was only when Isak’s door shut that she let herself collapse on the bed and sob.

-

Eva stood anxiously on the stoop of what she hoped was Noora’s apartment building. She'd only come once and hadn't gone up, but if she remembered correctly and the directory was up to date there was an N. Sætre living in 2A that must be her.

She worked up the courage to ring the bell and waited, hoping desperately that Noora wouldn’t think this was as presumptuous as it felt. Finding a recent acquaintance on your doorstep with nothing but a suitcase and record player begging for a place to stay probably wasn’t anyone’s ideal Sunday.

By the time the heavy front door creaked open, Eva had turned around to go think of another option, but she froze when she heard a soft, curious, “Eva?”

It was Noora, already dressed despite it still being early morning. “Are you okay? What happened last night?”

“Jonas-” Her eyes were already burning; she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. “We broke up.”

The look on Noora’s face was enough to make her cry all over again. She didn’t know how she still had tears left in her but they flowed freely down her face as Noora crossed the threshold and pulled her into a hug.

“Come on,” she said once Eva had finished ruining her sweater. “Let’s go inside.”

-

Noora hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said her apartment was small. It was a single room with only enough space for a stove, table and chairs, and a Murphy bed that was still out but neatly made. Eva set her record player on the table and perched on a chair, watching silently as Noora bustled around in the kitchen.

“I just need a minute to put these in the oven,” she said.

“These” turned out to be a batch of blueberry muffins, which she poured precisely into two pans while also setting out cups, teabags, and filling the kettle with water. There was a purposeful, matter-of-fact grace to her movements, like it was a dance she knew by heart. Eva wondered if it was learned or innate, because she had never seemed to catch on to that sort of thing.

Once the last pan was in the oven and the water was heating on the stove Noora nodded to herself, turned her back to it and sat down. 

“Tell me,” she said, so Eva did. And not just about the night before. She started from the very beginning, with her father leaving and her mother having to travel from place to place to find work. They moved so often that she’d never really felt like she belonged anywhere. At least, until she met Jonas. He had made space for her in his life in a way no one else had before, and even though it wasn’t one that she fit into perfectly, she’d been sure that one day she would if she tried hard enough. And weren’t real relationships about making sacrifices for the person you love?

At this Noora shook her head. “Sometimes you can give so much of yourself to other people that you start to disappear. It's not worth it.” She looked at Eva, eyes going cloudy with some faraway memory. “Nobody is worth that.”

The timer for the oven rang, but they stayed where they were for another minute. Eva sipped the last dregs of her tea, and the taste was bitter on her tongue.

“Thank you,” she said, and Noora smiled.

“I think the muffins are ready.”

In the course of the afternoon they ate half the pan and leftover blueberries while cleaning the apartment. They didn't discuss Eva staying, but by the end of the day her clothes were hung in the wardrobe and her record player had taken up residence on the bedside table, and Noora had said casually over dinner, “I’ll take the window side of the bed if you don’t mind.”

Eva could feel the first real smile that she’d had all day forming slowly on her face. 

“No. I don’t mind at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're reaching the end of my pre-written content so the next update may take a bit longer. Thank you for hanging in there with me!


	5. Chapter 5

To Eva's surprise, time passed quickly. At first she’d felt like a machine, with nothing inside her but gears and cogs that kept her moving listlessly from the apartment to the diner and back again. She probably wouldn’t have even had the strength to do that if not for Noora.

Living with her was wonderful. Her apartment complex was occupied by fascinating people, Eva’s favorite being their landlord, Eskild, who would often invite himself over to gossip and give his opinions on a variety of subjects. The neighbor on their other side, Linn, was a bit of a recluse, but Noora and Eskild were both incredibly fond of her. She had an eccentric, almost curmudgeonly air about her, but would occasionally accept their almost-daily invitations to join their informal dinner parties or see a movie together. It was exactly this sort of behavior that kept Eva afloat as well.

“It’s good to have a routine,” Noora would say as she dragged her out of bed and sat her down at the table. So Eva would sit, drink coffee she couldn’t taste, and wonder what Jonas was doing at that moment. If he was sleeping well without her. If he missed her.

And then one morning, as she brushed her hair in front of the mirror, she pulled a knot so hard it brought tears to her eyes, and then she was crying for no good reason for what felt like the thousandth time in recent memory, and something inside her seemed to snap and settle.

This wasn't who she wanted to be. She was sick of whoever this person was, who could fall apart at the drop of a hat and be miserable for weeks on end, wallowing in the past and what could have been. She needed a change.

She went into the kitchen and rummaged around in the drawers until she heard a tentative, “Eva?”

When she looked up, Eskild, Linn and Noora were staring back at her from the table, halfway through brunch. They looked alarmed, which she supposed wasn't entirely uncalled for, given the state of her appearance. Her hair was still tangled, and her being half-dressed did nothing to offset the slightly unhinged energy she was projecting.

“Is everything alright?”

“I'm fine, but...can you help me with something?”

Noora glanced at the other two and got twin shrugs for her trouble.

“What kind of something?” she asked.

-

“Okay, before we start, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” Noora hooked her chin over Eva's shoulder so that they could look at each other in the bathroom mirror.

“I am.”

“But your hair is pretty now,” Linn said. She had opted to sit in the tub to give Eskild space to work, and she dangled her feet over the edge. “Are you sure you can pull off a bob? It’ll take forever to grow it out again.”

“Of course she can pull it off, she's gorgeous.” Eskild flexed his hand and the pair of scissors he was holding flashed in the light. “And don’t worry, I technically finished barber school, I just didn't graduate because of an administrative error.”

Noora’s lips quirked. “The error was that you slept with the course instructor and jilted him a week later.”

“He was administration, wasn't he? Therefore-" he shrugged- “administrative error.”

Linn sighed. “Are we doing this? If not I can go sit in my own bathtub.”

“Are we, Eva?” They turned to look at her and she nodded emphatically.

“Yes!”

“Okay! Here goes nothing.”

Eva watched as locks of her hair began to fall to the floor. No one talked, all fascinated with Eskild’s handiwork. It was a bit strange, after years of growing it out and learning to braid it that it could be cut away so easily. She couldn’t deny the slight panic rising in her chest as more and more strands piled up by her feet, wondering if she’d made a mistake after all, but once it was finished and Eskild asked, “What do you think?”, it felt like more than just the weight of her hair had lifted from her shoulders.

She turned her head to see the full effect in the mirror. Her hair now fell to the base of her jaw, and she brought her hand up to touch the newly-blunted ends. It made the angles of her face sharper, more prominent in a way that almost made her look alien, even to herself. She somehow felt younger and older at once.

Eva looked around, and everyone stared back expectantly. As she combed her fingers through, testing out the feel, a grin crept onto her face and she said,

“I think we should go out tonight.”

-

Sadly, no amount of begging, pleading or cajoling could get Linn to follow them out, but the rest of the girls were happy to come along.

“I'll take you somewhere new,” Eskild assured Eva. “Somewhere you've never seen before.” He wouldn't say anything more than that, just smiled cryptically as he led them through the streets until they came to a modest brick building. Eskild strode up to the door and knocked; four sharp, rapid taps and three slow ones.

There was a pause, then the door opened to reveal a slim man in a tuxedo and what looked like stage makeup on his face.

“Eskild!” he said. “We were starting to think you had abandoned us.” He pulled an exaggerated pout, and Eskild rolled his eyes.

“Please, you hardly had time to miss me. And I brought new faces!”

“Ooh.” The man surveyed them with a bemused smile that Eva was unsure how to return. “Oh they are green, aren’t they? Well come on in, don’t be shy! We don’t bite unless you want us to.”

The man opened the door and Vilde widened her eyes at Chris, who laughed and pulled her inside. Sana also hesitated for a moment, but eventually set her jaw and strode in after them. They shuffled inside, down a hall and up a set of stairs into a room not unlike the RIot Club. The main difference was that this place had a larger stage. Eva squinted through the bluish haze of cigarette smoke to see who was performing on it.

“Eskild,” she said hesitantly, “Is that...a man? In a dress?”

“Where are we?” Vilde gasped. She seemed unsure as to whether she was scandalized or delighted. 

Eskild grinned as he beckoned a scantily-clad server with a tray of champagne and said simply,

“Welcome to the K-9 Club.”

\- 

The evening passed by in a flurry of drinks and bawdy performances that the girls watched with rapt attention.

_Masculine Women, Feminine Men!_  
_Which is the rooster, which is the hen?_  
_It's hard to tell 'em apart today..._

one singer crooned, waggling their painted eyebrows and shimmying to make the fringe of their dress flare out along with the rhythm.

_You go and give your girl a kiss in the hall  
But instead you find you're kissing her brother Paul!_

At this cheers and whistles drowned out the music for a moment. Eva threw her head back as she laughed, then caught sight of a familiar head of curly blond hair.

“Isak?” Eva was so perplexed she forgot they weren't speaking to each other. She got up out of her seat and made her way toward him, trying not to jostle too many people as she went. 

When she tapped him on the shoulder he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Eva!” he spluttered once he’d turned around. “What are you doing here?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

His eyes darted around the room as if searching for someone. “I uh...I came with Jonas.”

_“What?”_

“I mean- of course not _with_ Jonas, we're not- _I’m_ not-” Just then more whistles pierced the air. They both looked toward the stage, where performers were coming out in an array of brightly-colored suits and dresses.

Eva watched them for a moment, engrossed by two women dancing a tango together; one in a blue gown and the other in a matching suit and top hat. By the time her attention returned to Isak he seemed to have collected himself. 

“Magnus heard about this place and the boys wanted to see what it was all about,” he said. He looked down and scuffed his foot against the floor. “Eva, I’m...I’m sorry for how everything got all-” he began to mumble, but was interrupted by someone nearly crashing into him. 

“There you are Isak, we were looking for you!” It was a petite girl with short-cropped brown hair, even shorter than Eva’s new style. Her wide doe eyes lit up when they landed on Eva. 

“Hello!” she said brightly. “I’m Emma.” 

“Eva. Are you...with Isak?” She looked curiously at the hand Emma had laid on Isak’s arm. 

“No no,” Emma laughed. “I’m seeing his friend. Do you know Jonas?” 

It felt as if the world had tipped sideways. She blinked stupidly and shook her head. “Hm?” 

“Jonas,” Emma said again. “Oh! Speak of the devil.” She waved and out of the crowd came Mahdi, Magnus, and Jonas. Eva's stomach gave an unpleasant little lurch when his eyes landed on her. 

“Eva?” He froze up, looking unsure of what to do next, but came back to himself when Emma pecked him on the cheek. 

“How do you all know each other?” She entwined her arm with his and tilted her head, as if seeing them from a new angle would help her understand. 

All eyes were on Jonas now. He cleared his throat, and with a look at Eva that was half-ashamed, half-pleading said, 

“She’s…an old friend from home.” 

Magnus’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth like he was going to ask a question, but Mahdi gave a subtle shake of his head and he kept quiet. Isak shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched forward, as if trying to hunker down through a storm. Eva could feel tears blooming, hot and prickly behind her eyes. 

“Oh how nice!” Emma exclaimed. “It's so good to get away from those small towns, isn't it? I just got here from Nowhere, Indiana, and my folks would hit the ceiling if they could see me now, drinking alcohol. And at a pansy club of all places!” She paused to giggle, tickled by her own daring. 

Jonas looked at Eva with an expression that she couldn't read, but she didn't look back at him long enough to figure it out. 

“Sorry, would you excuse me? I think I need some air.” Eva turned on her heel without waiting for a response, swallowing the humiliation in her throat. She pushed through a side door that led to a back-alley fire escape. 

The back of the club was nothing but brick walls and gravel, but that didn't seem to stop other people from making use of the space. Couples lined the narrow stretch, thankfully too engrossed in their own activities to pay attention to what must be one of countless weepy drunk girls who stumbled outside on a night like this. The rough wall bit into her bare skin when she leaned against it but she couldn't bring herself to stand back up. 

She wasn't upset that Jonas had moved on, not really. Never mind how soon, or with whom. But it had hurt in ways she hadn't expected that he could erase her from his life so thoroughly that this new girl had no idea who she was. As if she really had meant nothing to him. 

She inched her way down the wall until she was crouching and dug her nails into her arms. She needed something to hang onto. 

Just then the door opened again. Out stepped Chris, who shook hands with a man in a suit that smiled and nodded, then disappeared back inside. He made his way down the stairs and gave a cursory glance to the men in the alley, then did a double take when he landed on Eva. He paused, just for a moment, then sidled over to the wall across from hers. He lit a match on it. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, and the flare of the match settled into a softer glow at the tip of his cigarette. “Long time no see.” 

Technically they had seen each other less than a week ago, but they hadn’t spoken since the night Jonas showed up at the club. Eva knew deep down that it wasn’t really fair to blame him for what happened, but she did, at least partially. So she had avoided him, dreading the moment when her luck would inevitably run out and they’d run into each other. Of course it would happen now, when she’d managed to hit lower than rock bottom. 

“Hi,” she said, attempting a smile. 

He crouched down so he could meet her eye-level, then whispered, “Y'know if you want to sit down it's pretty nice inside. They’ve got chairs and everything.” 

She laughed, but it turned into more of a wet hiccup. “No thanks. I think this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 

The smirk on his face dropped and he peered more closely at her. “What do you mean?” 

“I don't think you'd understand.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Try me. I’m not actually a complete sap, no matter what Iben says.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Eva sniffled and picked at the beading of her dress. “I just can't imagine that anyone could make you feel how I'm feeling right now.” 

“Which is?” 

“Like a nobody,” she whispered. “Like you don't matter, and you never will.” She scrubbed underneath her eye. She knew she must look awful, with mascara running in tracks down her face and dripping onto her knees, but Chris didn't seem bothered. He just sat back on his heels and nodded. 

“Well, plenty have tried, I'll tell you that.” 

“Really?” 

“Of course!” He leaned closer. “But I usually end up telling them to go fuck themselves. Y’know why?” 

He stood up and held out his hand so Eva could pull herself up. Then he waited until she met his clear, steady gaze and said, 

“They’re wrong about me, and whoever made you feel like this is wrong about you too, because you're the furthest thing from a nobody I've ever seen.” He shrugged. “So fuck ‘em, right?” 

Eva felt the ghost of a smile pulling at her mouth. 

“Right.” 

“Attagirl.” His thumb swept over her cheek to clear the last bit of moisture there and she let herself lean into his palm. She watched as his eyes went dark, and he slowly made his way closer to her. Close enough for her to feel the heat of his breath and smell the combination of liquor and cigarettes and hair oil she'd come to associate with him, but he didn't close the distance between them. It took her a few tense, endless seconds to realize that he was waiting for her, and the realization had her surging forward to meet him. 

Eva heard him make a soft, pleased sound as their lips met, and his other hand came up to cup her jaw, then her newly-bare neck. The sensation sent goosebumps down her arms and she gripped the lapels of his suit to pull him closer. He went easily. There was no caution, no tentativeness that she'd thought all first kisses had. This was immediate, all-consuming and effortless right from the start, and the intensity of it would have scared her if it didn't feel so _good_. 

His tongue pressed at her bottom lip, gentle but clearly asking for permission. She opened up to him, sighing as they settled back against the wall, legs intertwining as they went. 

It was only when they separated and she felt the soft rasp of his stubble against her jaw that it occurred to Eva that this was a bad idea. 

“Chris,” she gasped, and she’d meant to tell him to stop, put an end to whatever this was before it could build up any more momentum than it already had, but then he bit down on the skin where her neck met her shoulder and all she could do was clutch at him even more tightly. 

“Would you relax, I’m sure it's- Oh. See? She’s right here. Yoo-hoo, Eva!” 

She broke the kiss to look up and find the source of the voice. It was Eskild, draped on the fire escape above their heads. He waved as Noora appeared at his side, seemingly out of thin air, and Eva finally regained enough wherewithal to detach Chris’s mouth from her collarbone. She was experiencing a strange, jumpy sort of guilt, almost as if she’d been caught necking with a boy by her mother or a teacher, but not exactly. It was somewhere between that and the night Jonas had seen her singing, but there really wasn’t any reason for it. Regardless, she began stuttering out an apology as the two of them made their way down to the ground level. 

“Sorry for disappearing just now, I…” She paused, unsure of how to explain what had happened in a way that didn’t sound pathetic, but Noora saved her the trouble. 

“It’s okay. We ran into the boys and I thought...well. You’re still here, so...good.” She nodded to Chris, who responded with a flippant salute. 

While this was going on, Eskild had taken the liberty to light up and stare appraisingly at Chris as he smoked. 

“Come here often?” he asked. Noora’s eyes immediately rolled up to the night sky. Eva looked at Chris to gauge his reaction. He seemed unperturbed, even pleased, and replied jauntily, 

“Nope, just passing through.” 

“Aren't we all.” Eskild took a suggestive, hollow-cheeked drag and Chris laughed, tongue flicking out to wet the corner of his mouth. Not that they needed it. His lips were still so slick and red that they were practically obscene. 

“Really though, I’m here on business tonight. Gotta rearrange our delivery schedules to keep the more ah...persistent Dries off our backs.” 

“You supply this place too?” 

“The police are after you?” 

Noora and Eva had spoken at the same time. Chris chuckled and crushed his cigarette where it now laid on the ground with his heel. He must have dropped it earlier, in all the confusion. 

“Not police,” he corrected Noora, “Feds. Bureau of Prohibition, to be exact. If they were cops it’d be a hell of a lot easier to buy ‘em off. But we supply damn near everyone on the South Side at this point, so it's kind of a given that they’re trying to keep tabs on us.” 

They must have looked anxious because he added, “Not that it matters. William's always three steps ahead of them.” He turned his attention back to Eva. “Speaking of which, I have a few more stops to make tonight. Wanna get out of here, ride along with me?” 

An excited shiver ran through her. The prospect of an impromptu adventure was tempting, and the rush from their kiss hadn’t quite faded. It made her feel invigorated and reckless. but then she looked at Noora. Her face was composed, but her mouth had thinned into a narrow red line, the way it did when she was worried or disapproving. Eva felt another twinge of not-quite guilt. 

She turned back to Chris. “I think I should stay here. We left some more friends waiting for us inside.” 

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just remember what I told you, alright?” 

“Fuck ‘em?” she guessed. 

“Fuck ‘em!” he confirmed. “Eskild, pleasure meeting you. Ladies...see you around.” He winked, tipped his hat, and headed out toward the main street without a second glance. 

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Eskild called as Noora started pushing him back up the fire escape. She was smiling again, and her fingers were warm when they closed around Eva’s wrist. 

Later that night, or perhaps early next morning, Eva lay across from Noora in bed. She was recounting what Eva had missed after going outside, but they kept dissolving into giggles at one surprising turn of events that evening. 

“Magnus and Vilde? Really?” 

“He was smitten from the moment he saw her. Completely dumbstruck.” 

“And Vilde?” 

“It was the funniest thing. For all her talk about men she didn’t seem to have any idea what to do with one when he was standing right in front of her. But I guess we'll see if anything comes of it.” Noora shifted her head higher up on the pillow, and in the process a strand of hair slid down her face and caught between her lips. She had washed her makeup off before bed (and convinced Eva to do the same), so they were a soft pink instead of her trademark red. Eva couldn't decide if she preferred one over the other; the lipstick was striking, but there was something undeniably appealing about Noora’s bare face. There was an ease to it in this context, an absence of tension that she carried with her when she was out in the world. It was something she'd only seen now that they shared a place like this. 

“Speaking of unexpected meetings. You and Chris?” 

Eva squirmed further under the covers. “There’s no “me and Chris”,” she murmured. “We just kissed. He's not about to ask me to go steady with him.” 

“But if he did...would you want to?” 

“No,” she said quickly. Maybe too quickly, because Noora didn't look convinced. “I don't want anything serious right now, with him or anybody else. It's...it still feels too soon. You know?” 

Noora bit her lip, nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” She glanced at the clock on the wall opposite the bed, then got up to flip the light switch. “It’s late. We should get some rest.” 

When she slid back under the covers the light of the streetlamps reflected off of her eyes. “Goodnight,” she said before turning over. 

Eva stared at the back of Noora’s nightshirt. In that moment, she felt like the gap between them on the mattress stretched for miles instead of inches. She tried to calm her restless mind, but she knew her dreams would be as full of colorful confusion as her night had been. 

“Goodnight,” she whispered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> History Corner!
> 
> *The bob is thought of as the quintessential 1920s hairstyle now, but at the time it was still a bold choice. Reactions tended to be mixed, as some thought it was stylish while others found it unfeminine, so you had to be pretty confident to go through with it.
> 
> *Gay clubs like the K-9 Club (an actual gay Chicago speakeasy) were fairly commonplace in major cities. Many people were fascinated by openly gay performers and nightlife from the 20s up to the mid-30s, a time historians refer to as the Pansy Craze, but this ended in 1935 when Chicago's mayor had police raid and shut down any and all gay clubs, cafes or drag shows in the city. From there LGBT people were actively vilified, repressed, and ultimately forced underground (but not forgotten!).
> 
> *The song being performed in the club is delightfully real. It's called Masculine Women, Feminine Men.
> 
> *The Bureau of Prohibition was meant to take down bootlegging rings, but it was sort of infamous for having agents (also known as "Dry Agents" or "Dries") that were underpaid and not very well-trained.
> 
> So it's been a minute, huh? I'm so sorry for the update gap, I started a new job and I've been spending nearly all my time getting up to speed with it. But I'm still thinking about my stories all the time and I don't intend to abandon this one! Hope you enjoyed <3


	6. Chapter 6

In the weeks that followed their encounter at the K-9 Club, Eva and Chris’s interactions had returned to playful flirtation which, in a strange way, felt safer than the careful avoidance they’d maintained over the last month or so. It was as if the kiss had suddenly released the tension between them, like the pop of a shaken champagne bottle, and now everything could go back to normal. It certainly had for Chris anyway. He was never in want of company, surrounded as he was by beautiful girls and jovial men, but Eva still felt his eyes on her from the moment she started performing to the moment she stepped off the stage. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d sang without meeting his gaze in the crowd. 

It was for this reason that his absence during her set one December evening was particularly conspicuous. She felt silly for the little spasm of worry that went through her when she saw that he wasn’t even by the bar. It wasn’t like he spent every night at the club, though he usually appeared for at least an hour or so to chat and wheedle free drinks out of whoever was tending the bar. He was probably fine. On some errand for William, or more likely tangled up in a rendezvous that ran long.

 _“Button up your overcoat,”_ she sang,  
_When the wind is free_  
_Take good care of yourself_  
_You belong-_

Eva faltered as she watched William descend the back stairway of the club. He was half-carrying, half-dragging someone along the wall toward another recessed door in the corner, and the rest of the boys who’d been scattered around the room working or playing immediately got up to follow them.

Noora, who’d been sitting front and center, frowned and looked over her shoulder to follow Eva's line of sight. If it wasn’t for Mari waving from the bar, Eva probably would have jumped off the stage to see what was going on, but as it was she still had to finish her set. The club’s patrons were mostly oblivious to the goings-on in the back of the club, and those who weren’t were easily distracted by the continuation of the music.

By the time she’d sang her last note, Noora was up out of her seat, hurrying to meet her. The two of them pushed through the men converged at the back room in time to hear WIlliam finish giving orders.

“-want you to find every North Side fuck who thinks they can start shit with our people and make them sorry they stepped foot into our territory.” His voice was soft and low, but Eva was sure everyone could hear it. It had a sharp, deadly precision to it, like a snake bite you didn’t feel until long after the poison was pumping through your veins.

“Go.” That was all it took to send everyone flooding out of the room, which Eva realized was a sort of cellar with a table and chairs set in the middle. The someone that William had been dragging was propped up in a chair, and she could see now, under the harsh light of the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, that it was Chris.

Noora gasped and shrank back once she'd gotten a good look at him. Eva could hardly blame her. His left eye was swollen shut, surrounded by what she was certain would turn into a fantastically awful bruise. Blood trickled steadily out of a cut over his brow, making a tiny tap-tap sound as it hit the floor. 

“‘M fine,” he mumbled, head lolling to one side.

“Shut up.” William removed his tie and used it to staunch the bleeding. Then he shed his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and continued to assess the damage. The way his fingers grazed over the other man’s face, hands tilting his head this way and that to examine at another angle, was so much more gentle than Eva would have expected. The difference between the man giving grave orders to his footsoldiers and the one leaning over Chris was stark as night and day. Chris, for his part, didn’t protest the attention but swallowed hard when William pressed against a tender spot. Whenever he did this William made a low “tsk” sound under his breath.

Eva hovered in the doorway, feeling uncertain. The closest person to Chris was William, and he was already there. Would he need (or want) her to come in? What was she to him, really? 

The decision was made for her when William called for ice. She could see that there was an icebox below the bar but the rags for wiping glasses didn't look like something she'd want anywhere near her own face, so after a moment of rummaging in her handbag she pulled out a handkerchief. It was one of the only nice ones that she owned, lacy and monogrammed, but she supposed it would have to do.

Eva passed the makeshift ice pack to William, who took it with a grim nod.

“So Doc, what's the diagnosis? Am I still pretty?” Chris asked, then winced as the pack settled over his eye.

“Nothing looks broken but if you plan on seeing any action for the next few weeks you'll have to rely on your personality.”

Eva couldn't hold in a snort and William's mask of impassive severity cracked ever so slightly. He leaned back against the table and closed his eyes, letting all his breath out in one heavy sigh. The lightbulb swayed ever so slightly, casting exaggerated shadows on his nose and cheekbones. From this angle he looked gaunt, impossibly tired for someone so young.

It was only a few seconds before he remembered himself.

“Where’s Noora?” he asked.

“She’s-” Eva looked over her shoulder and was surprised to see that Noora had vanished. “She was just here...”

William pushed past her and into the crowd. It didn’t look as if he wanted to be followed, so Eva stepped further into the room.

When she glanced back she saw that Chris was attempting to unbutton his shirt one-handed, as the other was still holding her handkerchief to his eye. He cursed as he fumbled at his collar without success, and eventually Eva intervened.

“Here.” She nudged his hand away and got to work. It seemed that he'd lost his jacket in whatever scuffle he'd gotten into, so his shirt was soaked with filthy grayish slush. He must have been rolling around in a gutter somewhere to be in such a state.

“Feels like I got stabbed.” He pointed to a spot below his heart and Eva rushed to undo the last button, but she was relieved to see a distinct lack of blood staining his undershirt.

“I think it's just your ribs.”

“Oh is that all?” His sarcasm was tempered by a sharp intake of breath as she pulled his undershirt out from his waistband. Just as she suspected, his torso was mottled red and purple, with some patches already darkening to blue. It looked like he'd been kicked a few times, by more than one pair of boots. It made her stomach lurch.

“You know, when I imagined you undressing me this wasn’t exactly how I’d pictured it.”

Eva looked up at him. It would be easy to take the bait, to slip back into their usual banter and smooth all of this over with jokes and innuendo. But she suspected that if she did, she'd never know what really went on tonight. Or any other night after that. She wasn’t sure if her curiosity (or her conscience) would allow it. So instead she asked him point blank.

“What happened?” 

He took a long pause, then sighed. “Saw your friend near the K-9 again about to get mugged by some Northsiders, told ‘em to fuck off since they had no business being there and, well…” He gestured at himself and shrugged.

“My friend...Eskild?” She felt a jolt of fear zing down her spine. “Is he okay?”

He frowned. “No not him, the blond one. The one you talked with inside.”

“...Isak?”

“Yeah. I think he came here once too.”

“He did. Jonas wasn’t there?”

“Not that I could tell.”

“What was he doing there alone?”

“He wasn’t alone, he just wasn’t with Jonas.” He raised his good eyebrow meaningfully at her.

“Oh... _oh!_ ” The force of the realization had her sitting heavily in the other chair.

Chris's brow furrowed. “Does that bother you?” 

“Of course not, I just...I didn't know.”

He nodded, and the strange tension in the air dissipated as quickly as it had formed. “Well if you see him tell him he owes me one. And if he wants to go somewhere more discreet than the K-9 I can point him in the right direction.”

“Ah yes, you're the most discreet person I know.”

He laughed, then clutched his side with immediate regret.

“Do you keep spare clothes around here somewhere?” Eva asked. His shirt was unwearable at this point, and she could see he was starting to shiver.

“Can check the shop upstairs.” Chris dropped his sodden layers on the floor and shrugged into William's abandoned coat. “How do I look?”

“Ridiculous,” she said, eyeing his bare, still-visible chest. He winked at her, and all she could do was laugh. 

As they made their way back out and climbed the stairs up to the street, Eva heard familiar voices echoing off the alley walls. As they got closer it became clearer that the voices belonged to Noora and William, and that they were arguing.

“-didn't need to send them out for blood like a pack of dogs-”

“What do you want me to say Noora? You think if we sit them down and give them a stern talking-to they'll stop?”

She flinched at the force of his words but planted her feet on the ground, as if refusing to let them push her over. 

William sighed. “If we let them get away with this kind of shit they'll think we're weak. They'll get bolder, and eventually they'll try to take everything from us. By force.”

“So that's your solution? You try to kill each other one by one and hope you’re the last man standing?”

“It's either that or we kill each other all at once. If you can find a third option you let me know.”

“All you have to do is walk away.” It was barely a whisper, but the wind picked it up and carried it to Eva, as clear as if Noora’s lips were beside her ear. She stepped toward William, reaching out. His fingers twitched, then balled into a fist.

“It's not that simple.”

It was as if he'd slammed a door in her face. She stepped back and shrugged sadly. “It is for me.” 

And with that, she turned on her heel and strode past Chris and Eva toward the main street. The pair stood frozen for a moment, but eventually Chris nudged her. When she looked up at him he tilted his head toward William with a long-suffering expression as if to say ‘I’ll handle this one,’ and released his hold on her arm to hobble down the alley by himself.

He laid a hand on William’s shoulder, but the man knocked it off with a rough, disgusted motion, akin to someone shaking a rat from his shoe.

“What do you want?” he snapped. “Any more messes you need me to clean up for you?”

For once Chris was speechless. His face flickered from shock to hurt to anger in less than a second, but before he could reply William was already pushing by him and stomping back down the stairs.

“Go,” Chris said, voice rusty and scraping like old metal on pavement. Eva hesitated for another second, then did what he asked.

Noora had barely reached the next block by the time Eva got to her. “I’m fine,” she said, but her voice was brittle and thin. She closed her eyes. A light snow had just started to fall, and the flakes landed on her upturned face. “I just want to go home. Can we do that?”

Eva placed a careful arm around her shoulders, and Noora let herself be drawn in closer. “Of course.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated, this time muffled against Eva’s chest. Eva wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, but by the time they started walking, the snow from Noora’s cheeks had melted and pooled in her collarbone.

-

“Shit,” Eva cursed as her numb fingers fumbled with the keys. Now that winter had arrived in earnest, it didn't seem to make a difference how many layers of sweaters, scarves, and gloves she put on. Every time the wind whipped by she swore she could feel it right down to her bones.

When she finally managed to open the lock and made the precarious journey up the flight of stairs, she stood on the landing and announced, “I got more cranberries!” 

She laughed at the uproarious applause that erupted and headed toward Eskild’s apartment. The door stood open, as the constant traffic of people milling in and out made it impossible to close. Everywhere she looked there were people laughing and talking around the newest addition to the building: an implausibly large fir tree in the center of the hall.

Earlier that day, Eskild had shown up with it, claiming it was for his apartment. However, upon struggling to get it through the front door and up the stairs, he decided that it would be much better placed in the open. And, since Eskild never gave up an excuse to turn the mundane into an event, he set about inviting all of their friends and neighbors over to help decorate.

Eva, once inside, could see Linn showing Vilde how to make eggnog in the kitchen. Chris, Sana, and Noora, meanwhile, had started a small popcorn-garland assembly line at the table, and their eyes lit up when Eva came into view.

“Thank goodness you’re here, we were about to run out,” Chris said.

Christmas was nearly ruined,” Sana confirmed gravely.

“It practically is, knowing you three won’t be here for the real thing,” Eskild pouted. He’d been chatting with another set of people who, judging by Eva’s vague sense of familiarity with them, were either fellow tenants or speakeasy patrons, but had peeled away when Eva came through the door.

“Trust me when I say I’d rather be here than another fundraiser,” Chris sighed. She helped to pass handfuls of berries around the table, and they all began stringing them onto the garlands.

Sana shrugged. “I have a prior commitment.”

Linn and Vilde sat down beside Chris and sipped their frothy drinks. A bit of foam stuck to her lip. “I wish I could,” she said apologetically, “It’s just that my mom wanted it to be a family affair this year.”

“What about you two?” Eskild asked Noora and Eva, sprinkling tinsel strands over their heads. “Should I set any extra places that night?”

“Not likely,” Noora said tersely, and she stabbed through the next cranberry with such force that it was reduced to pulp in her fingers. 

Eva watched her fumble with a new berry and tried not to chew her lip. She had hoped the holidays would shake Noora out of her now-weeklong funk, but it remained to be seen how successful that would be. She’d spent the weekend after her fight with William in a state of near-manic productivity; polishing the living room floor, reorganizing the books in her small shelf, cleaning the kitchen cupboard. It was only after she’d run out of tasks that she sat and stared out the window for hours, lost in thought. Eva was at a loss for how she could help her, as she kept insisting that nothing was wrong. All she could think to do was hover nearby and do her best to distract her until she was ready to actually talk. 

If she ever was, anyway. For someone so opinionated, Noora was remarkably tight-lipped about anything to do with her personal life.

“Eva?”

She started at the intrusion on her thoughts and blinked at Eskild, who asked for what seemed to be the second time, 

“Should we expect any gentlemen callers for Christmas?”

She grinned and batted her eyelashes at him. “You know I don’t know any gentlemen but you, Eskild.”

He blew a kiss that she snatched out of the air. “Any scoundrels then?”

“I think the scoundrels will have more extravagant plans,” she laughed. There was a sudden, sharp intake of breath from Noora, who had pricked herself with the garland needle. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, then scooted her chair back so she could retreat to the kitchen.

Eva followed her.

“There are Band-Aids there.” Noora nodded to a cabinet as she rinsed her hand in the sink. Eva opened it and took out the box.

“Who knew Eskild was a Boy Scout,” she joked, and Noora smiled a bit sheepishly. 

“Actually I bought them,” she admitted. Her tone turned defensive when Eva laughed. “He’s very accident-prone! He kept coming over to borrow mine so in the end I just got him his own.” 

“Well at least you’re seeing some returns on your investment.” She cut a length of bandage off the roll and wrapped it snugly around Noora’s index finger, then lifted it up to shoulder-height.

“It stops bleeding faster when you hold it up,” she explained.

They stood facing each other for what was probably too long, Eva realized with heat rising in her cheeks, for her to be holding Noora’s hand. She let go, and Noora let it down slowly.

“Thanks for patching me up, Doctor Mohn,” she teased. She looked completely unperturbed, as if she couldn't feel the air thickening, time slowing and space compressing around them.

Maybe she didn't. Maybe that was all in Eva's head.

“I’m glad you’re not squeamish,” she went on, and Eva tried to pull herself together.

“Oh, well this is nothing, compared to-” Eva could have kicked herself. She could tell that Noora knew she’d been about to refer to Chris. Her eyes lowered, and an awkward silence settled between them.

“I don’t know what scares me more,” she finally said as she continued to stare at the floor. “That something like that will happen again, or that he’s capable of doing something even worse, or that I’d still-” she swallowed and whispered hoarsely, “I’d still care about him if he did.”

Eva wanted so badly to say something comforting, but she felt as lost as Noora looked. Like a child in a dark room, groping blindly for a single switch that could turn on the light.

“You can’t help how you feel,” was the best she could come up with. It felt inadequate, but Noora still smiled a small, sad smile at her.

“I guess not.” She gave herself a little shake and straightened out her posture. “But it's alright. I don’t even know what he wanted from me in the first place. I think I was just a challenge to him. If I don't come around anymore I’m sure he’ll forget all about me eventually.” She said it with a forceful certainty, daring anyone (including herself, it seemed) to disagree. “Do you think you can save one song for me when you come home?”

“I’ll save you two.”

“So generous,” she chuckled. The lingering melancholy in her eyes slowly receded, replaced by warmth and light.

“Are you amputating in there?” Eskild called.

“Just as soon as we find your meat cleaver!” Eva answered. Noora watched her and Eskild banter back and forth for a few rounds, smothering a laugh behind her bandaged hand, before the two of them made their way back over to their friends.

-

“Eva, William wants to talk to you.”

“Why?” she blurted before she could stop herself. She had just finished her post-performance drink and had been trying to decide if she should call it a night or take up Iben's offer to teach her how to play poker. Now it seemed that both of those plans were about to go out the window.

Mari shrugged and reached over the bar to pour herself a whiskey. “He’s upstairs in the office.”

Eva’s trepidation rose with every step she took up the rickety basement stairs. She’d never actually been to the parts of the building that were above street level. It almost felt like she was about to be reprimanded by the school principal.

William did little to dispel this notion. Eva found him sitting behind a mahogany desk, poring over what looked like a ledger. He was surrounded by dark, heavy furniture and towering bookcases. He should have looked small, dwarfed as he was by his high-backed chair, but he still managed to be the central element of the room, a severe statue around which everything else orbited.

When Eva knocked softly on the doorframe he glanced up, his demeanor changed completely. He smiled, warm and charming. 

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, edging inside.

“I wanted to thank you, actually.” He gestured magnanimously toward the chair across from him, and Eva sat.

“Thank me?”

“For your help last week. In this line of business these things are bound to happen from time to time. It’s not easy to find someone who won’t crack under pressure.” He eyed her, and she had the distinct feeling that he was sizing her up, but she wasn’t sure for what purpose.

“I also had a proposition for you that should benefit both of us, if you’re interested.”

She didn’t answer, but her expression must have been encouraging enough for him to elaborate.

“I run a few places where people can go to have a drink and play cards. Not strictly legal, but it's good business, and lately I've been wanting to...add to the experience. You've been doing well here so I thought you could come and sing for me too.”

“I thought you didn't care about music in your clubs.”

“Maybe you changed my mind.”

“I don't know, I've heard from a couple of reliable sources that it's not so easy to do that.”

For a split-second she caught a flash of something- surprise, or maybe annoyance, before he laughed and looked down to scribble on a loose scrap of paper. “We could start you on a nightly rate, and if that works out for both of us you could take on more.”

Eva swallowed hard when she saw the number he slid to her. One night singing for William was more than she could make in a week at the diner. She was tempted to accept, but she couldn’t shake her unease. He was watching her with affected indifference, as if the outcome of this exchange meant nothing to him, but he fiddled with the pen he was holding, turning it over and over again in his fingers. When he caught her looking he stopped instantly.

“So?” he asked.

She pushed the paper slowly back toward him. “It's not that I don't appreciate the offer…” She hesitated, then continued. “But if you want something from me I don't need a bribe. You can just ask.”

The startled look on his face told her she was right. It quickly shifted to anger, and he said with disdain dripping from every word, “You have nothing I want.”

But it was too late. She’d seen him for what he was, and he knew it. He was a boy, who only knew how to get what he wanted through force or manipulation, neither of which would work with Noora. She didn’t know why she felt compelled to help him. She wasn’t even sure that the two of them were a good idea. All she knew was that something in Noora had broken since their fight, and it wouldn’t heal until she’d had proper closure.

So Eva held his gaze, and chose her words carefully. “I’ve found that...if I care about someone, it’s best to tell them how I feel. Even if it’s not all good.” She stood up. “Thank you again for the offer. I’ll see myself out.”

“Eva.”

She stopped.

“Thank you.” Though the words were the same, this felt entirely different from the start of their conversation. There was weight to them this time, an attempt to convey something more genuine.

She smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

-

On Christmas Eve, Noora and Eva arrived at Eskild’s apartment at 7 o’clock. Noora prepared a roast chicken with plenty of helpful advice from Eskild and Eva, at least until she shooed them out of the kitchen. Meanwhile, Linn and Eskild directed Eva as she placed candles on the Christmas tree, though they ended up spending most of the time arguing with each other on how best to arrange them. In the end, Eva mostly had to rely on her own judgment, but she was pretty sure it looked alright. After dinner, the four of them nailed stockings to the wall over the radiator. Linn had passed out knit socks embroidered in red with Noora’s and Eskild’s initials, then handed one to Eva with a crooked green “E” stitched into the front with a brusque “Here.”. She’d been taken aback when Eva threw her arms around her but still managed to return the hug without dropping the hammer. Once they’d settled onto the couch with cookies, three glasses of wine and one mug of milk, Linn entertained them with her filthy rendition of “Jolly Old St Nicholas” while Eskild accompanied her on the piano. Noora was practically crying from trying to control her laughter, and Eva had given up entirely. 

They’d gotten through two more songs before the downstairs doorbell rang. Eskild glanced out the window that overlooked the front of the building and raised an eyebrow.

“Who is it?” Eva asked.

“Looks like I should have set more places after all,” he remarked with a wry smile. 

Noora lurched toward the window, then shook her head in disbelief. “What are they doing here?”

“They?” Her curiosity piqued, Eva squeezed behind the piano to join them. Below them stood two men in black coats and snow-dusted hair. They should have been indistinguishable at this angle, but she recognized them immediately.

“What do we do?” Eva wondered aloud, but before they could begin to form a plan William looked right up at them. Noora ducked out of view, Eva froze, and Eskild waved pleasantly.

“What?” he asked as Noora glared at him from behind the curtain. “No use pussyfooting around now. If he’s here anyway you might as well go talk to him.”

“I have nothing to say to him,” she said with a defiant jut of her chin.

Linn rolled her eyes. “Then tell him that, so he won’t loiter on our doorstep like a stray animal.”

Eva caught Noora’s eye and murmured, “They have a point.”

Noora sighed and shifted closer to her. She said, low enough that only Eva could hear, “Will you come with me?”

Eva squeezed her hand and said, “I think I’ll go down and say hello. It is Christmas after all.”

They left the warmth of the apartment for the frigid stairwell, and as they approached the front door, Noora took a deep breath and pushed it open with a force that had Chris and William taking a step backward.

“Merry Christmas,” Chris said.

Noora barely spared him a glance. “Why are you here?” she asked sharply.

“I was hoping we could talk.” William didn’t say _privately_ , but the implication was strong enough for Chris to pull out a lighter, shoot Eva a come hither look, and amble toward the car idling in the street. She wasn’t planning to follow, but even if she had Noora’s grasp on her sleeve would have prevented her from going far.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Noora said.

William looked to Eva, eyes pleading. _What now?_ he seemed to be asking. Eva stared back flatly but inclined her head, as if to say _Go on._

He gritted his teeth, exhaled slowly, then looked at Noora again. “You don’t understand what happened that night.”

She huffed, unimpressed. “Enlighten me, then.”

“I don’t care about the business, or territory, or any of the petty gang bullshit. I care about-” He broke off when he realized how his voice had risen, looked over his shoulder where Chris was smoking against his car, then said, quiet again, “I don't have a lot of people in my life that I care about. Who care about _me_. If I didn’t do everything I could to keep them safe, I’d never forgive myself.”

Noora shook her head. “You can’t stop bad things from happening to people.”

“Is it wrong to try?”

“It is if you’re hurting someone else to do it.”

“Maybe. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He took a step forward, and Noora let him. “I was afraid,” he whispered, with a bone-deep shame that made Eva’s chest hurt. 

Noora wasn’t holding her sweater anymore. She took a tentative step toward William and took his hand in hers. He closed his eyes. 

“Um,” Eva began, and the two snapped to attention so suddenly that it was clear they’d forgotten she was there. “Maybe you two could go upstairs? I’ll stay at Eskild’s tonight.”

Noora furrowed her brow, about to protest, but Eva waved her off. “It’s fine. Go ahead. You have some catching up to do.”

She watched the door shut behind them, a bittersweet satisfaction unfurling inside her. This was good. They would work things out, and they would be happy together, and Eva would be happy for them. 

“So,” Chris said, making her jump. She hadn’t heard him walking up behind her. “Is the war over?”

“More or less.” She looked up, and saw the light in Noora’s window come on.

“Thank God. He’s been insufferable.” He pulled a flask out of his coat pocket and offered it to her. Eva took it gratefully. Whiskey burned deliciously down her throat.

“Your eye looks better,” she said after handing it back to him. He winked and took a gulp.

“Y’know I’m almost sad to see it go. Turns out the shiner enhances my devil-may-care aesthetic.”

“I could punch your other eye,” she offered helpfully.

“Ha. Thanks but no thanks.” They stood in companionable silence for a while, passing the whiskey flask back and forth. Once it was empty, Chris slipped it back inside his coat. He was full of restless energy tonight, unable to keep still for more than a few seconds at a time. Eva watched him bounce on the balls of his feet, then pull a loose thread from his sleeve, then nudge a divot into the snow lining the walkway before he said abruptly,

“You know, this seems like the perfect time to go for a drive.”

“What?”

“Why not? It’s a nice night, we have refreshments, and-” he leaned in and said in a conspiratorial tone, “William forgot to take his keys with him.”

They eyed the sleek black car sitting a few feet away from them. Even Eva, who had no particular appreciation for automobiles, could see that it was handsome, all smooth lines and gleaming metal. 

“Won’t he be mad?”

He shrugged. “Probably. But I’m still in the doghouse with him anyway, so what’s one more screwup?” They looked up at Noora’s window, which had gone dark. His expression turned slightly bitter, but then he smirked and waggled his eyebrows at her. “The way I see it, what we’ve got here is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Eva rubbed her chin, as if to consider his proposal, but she couldn’t hold back her smile for long. “Well when you put it like that, how could I say no?” 

-

As they raced through the city streets, Eva could feel herself warming up despite the icy air blowing in through the windows. They were going too fast; she could tell by the way the street lamps streaked her vision, and people jumped back from the curb as they passed, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She felt recklessly, ecstatically alive, in a way that she hadn’t really felt since the first night she’d gone to the Riot Club. 

The traffic light ahead of them flashed from amber to red, but there was no way they could stop in time. They roared toward the intersection, and Eva shrieked when a car drove into their path. Chris swerved to avoid it and the car nearly upended itself. Eva could have sworn that they balanced on two wheels for a heartstopping moment, but then her scream turned to laughter as they drove on, leaving nothing but the sound of the other driver’s indignant honking in their wake.

She looked at Chris and saw that he was laughing too, with a toothy, open-mouthed smile that only got wider when they heard sirens start to wail behind them.

“What is that?” she asked, already knowing the answer but hoping it wasn’t true.

“Sounds like the police to me!” he replied, shouting to be heard. “Wonder who they’re after?”

He glanced over at her, laughed at her exasperated expression, then shifted to a higher gear.

As they left the dense, well-lit streets of the inner city, the roads twisted and branched into smaller dirt paths lined with scrubby foliage. They followed the winding route this way and that until making a sudden turn into a copse of trees. Chris killed the engine, and they were plunged into darkness. The only sounds Eva could hear now were their own breathing and the ever-approaching sirens. The ringing reached an unbearable pitch; her heart raced, the police would find them any second-

And then, as quickly as it came, the noise began to fade as the car continued down the road. Relief mixed with the adrenaline and whiskey running through her veins into a heady sensation that demanded action, celebration. Chris was feeling it too, if his dilated pupils and heavy breathing were anything to go by. He reached for her over the gear shift and she obliged, crashing into him with abandon. Her fingers ran up his neck and into his hair, tugging at it hard enough to force a moan out of his mouth and into hers. He paid her back in kind with a bite on the lip, and she drew back in surprise.

“What? Do you want to stop?” he asked.

Eva brought a finger to her lip and relished the sting of it. He watched her, wary but wanting. 

“The only thing I want to stop doing,” she said slowly, “is talking.”

He grinned and reached for her again, this time with more force. They wrestled their way backward, laughing as they nearly fell to the floor, then righted themselves in the backseat. They were a flurry of hungry mouths and seeking hands, pulling at any clothing that got in their way.

“Eva,” he sighed as he touched the bare skin of her thighs, “Can I-?”

“Yes,” she gasped before he could finish asking. It felt like she was burning from the inside out, and if she didn’t do something about it she would turn to ash. She held onto him tightly as they moved together, desperate for something to anchor her. He grounded her with his solid weight, his hand holding her hip so tightly that it was sure to bruise, his lips whispering so sweetly in her ear that she couldn’t bear to listen to the words. She gasped for breath as she shook apart with him, and they lay intertwined until the trembling in their bodies subsided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well jeez, this took forever. Thank you to everyone who encouraged me with kind words, comments and kudos since my last update, they really mean a lot to me <3


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